A Wanted Desire
by LittleDesiredCullen
Summary: On the side of a highway was where Esme found her, a nameless child with no words and a past that even a telepathy can't decode. She endured nothing but pain, endless screams and darkness- all because of her. With a lost childhood, the Cullen's guide her to rediscover it. But is it all worth risking their life's? Hers? Can they keep away the shadowy figures that haunt her?


_I am back and I finally finished the first chapter of this rewritten story! And I am currently writing up the next. I am so sorry to though's who are upset with me taking down all the chapters, the story was just so poorly written and it irked the heck out of me, so I rewrote it. I hope you don't mind this change. And just a warning, these chapters have no fixed schedule as to when they'll come out – So I apologize in advance, I have exams next week and my next semester isn't looking too easy..._

_Anyways, I also apologize if for the length and slow progress of this chapter, I am trying to make this story as realistic as possible. You can't get a severely abused child to trust you with a snap of your finger. The progress will be gained slowly throughout the story; two steps forward and one step back._

_Dark themes will be revealed in the next couple of chapters – so again – fare warning. And all the Cullen's will have their time in the spotlight as the story progresses; they all serve an important role in her development._

_Also, I added a minor change to the cannon – Carlisle will be thirty-five rather than twenty-three (It was Peter Facinelli's age when he portrayed Carlisle in the first Twilight movie) I just always thought the age suited him better and he will (at least to me) still have the appearance of someone in their early to mid twenties._

_Okay enough with my rambling. Apologies for any grammar mistakes and enjoy the first chapter!  
_

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"My goodness, how are the streets not flooding from all this rain?!" The owner gasps from behind, soft and raspy in age. "Are you sure you don't to wait out the storm, dear? I would hate to send you out there in that ugly weather."

The rain heaves violently against the shops window in outrage to the woman's words, Esme turns away and meets the warm hazel eyes of the elderly women with a soft smile. "A little rain doesn't hurt."

Her hair like fresh and loose snow, flies lightly as she jerked her head toward the window. Her brow furrows. "Are you sure?" She asked, flinching as the thunder roared without warning while Esme tensed, frozen briefly.

Her chest tightened at the concern in the woman's eyes, the concern of life-long friend although their time together was short. "My children will go into a frenzy if they find out they'll have to make dinner themselves," The lie flowed easily off her tongue, yet her smile quivered faintly, her laugh a little too forced. "Go home to your family, they must miss you deeply with the endless hours you work. I'll be just fine."

Non of them were home, they were dining out in the Alaskan wilderness, fully capable of feeding and tending to themselves.

Oh, how she yearned for such a lifestyle. She was a mother with little purpose.

The women gives a slow nod, seeming to struggle a little to see reason in Esme's recklessness, yet she smiles, spilling warm sunshine all over her. With a fragile hand upon her clothed arm, she led her to the door and wished her a safe travel.

Once Esme stepped outside, she regretted ever leaving. Monstrous droplets of rain attacked and drenched her whole within seconds. But the rain was not what had her quivering. It had left the streets barren and dark, it wasn't a very posh neighborhood. The stench of unlawful substances stuck permanently to the bitter air and very faintly, Esme caught the drunken slurs of several men in an apartment down the block.

She could easily out run them if they ever decide to approach her, vanish before they even had time to blink. They couldn't hurt her and she knew that, but only for a fleeting moment before her old human fears possessed her – like a demon looming from behind, getting ever so close.

Her pace quickened along the damp pavement, her breathing becoming unnaturally unsteady and needy for a creature that didn't require oxygen to survive. The muffled sound of heavy footsteps urged her to glance behind her. There wasn't a single human to be seen nor heard for miles. Again, she knew this and as she continued onward, the feet followed. And so foolishly she spun around to face an empty sidewalk once more.

She whimpered. _No... no... Not now. Please not now. Don't be foolish, don't be afraid. _

She had to be the first vampire to lose their sanity.

Pulling her coat more tightly around her even though the cold could no longer cripple her, Esme looked ahead, urging her mind to be consumed in the waltzing rain that performed before soft golden street lights. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of something and her knees almost gave out.

The Bentley – Carlisle's Bentley. Sleek and black, the streetlights bathing it in a way that was almost holy. She didn't linger for no more than a fragment of a second, her legs wouldn't allow her. If a human had been there to witness her blinding speed, she would have been sent instantly to death row.

Her hands shook like a deranged human as she searched for the keys, merely keeping the passenger door intact in her desperation to escape the phantom man. She locked the door three times before easing into the cool leather. When she breathed, it felt like she was inhaling Nitrous oxide through an oxygen mask, completely and utterly at bliss. His warm scent clung to the cars every surface and she realized at that moment that she wasn't that skittish young women anymore. The one that use to cower in the presence of men and hide in churches to rid herself of fear and loneliness.

But she wasn't like that now, not anymore.

With a mind now absent of fear, she headed toward home, away from that area with endless spawns of nightmarish memories. Esme didn't become enraged when the traffic grew to a crawl, there was a great amount of security brought by the voices from the surrounding vehicles. She was among society now.

The urban buildings were quickly consumed by oceans of green as she travel further away from Seattle and closer to home. Rounding the bend of a deserted and dark highway was when Esme saw it.

Small and fragile. A ball of faint whimpers and bleach white skin, long flowing dark locks.

A child.

Her foot reacted faster than her mind could keep up with and slammed on the brake, bring the Bentley to a rugged halt on the side of the road.

Comically, she found herself breathless, staring unblinking at the trembling figure before her headlights. The swish of the windshield wipers and pelting rain was the only thing that kept her maternal instincts from possessing her at the sound of her quivering cries.

Yet Esme was possessed the moment her eyes seized sight of the child.

Her hand remained frozen on the steering wheel, refusing to comply to her mind's suggestion of leaving the child to another by passer. She gazed at the girl still, afraid that looking away or blinking would cause her to vanish. It was possible with those violent winds.

Her small frame was as fragile as a glass figurine, curled in a tight ball in a puddle of mud and gravel. There was nothing the child could do but endure the rains aggression, her limps too crippled by the cold to seek shelter in the thick vegetation behind her. Something within her still heart stirred at her helplessness and ignored cries. It was soft and broken with exhaustion, slowly fading into the rhythm of the rain as though she had lost complete hope- her maternal instincts, Esme knew it from the burn in her chest, the way she seemed to be pulled towards her. Fingers twitching with an overwhelming urge to grasp the child. Embrace her and cease her tears.

Suddenly, deep within the crevices of her muddy human memories, the fragments of an infants wail was unearthed, forcing her eyes to close as it echoed within her mind. It was hoarse, barely a whisper, wheezing a plea in a language that only Esme understood. Relief. Yet she could do nothing – the doctors and nurses could do nothing. She tried helplessly to soothe his suffering with tender strokes to his furrowed forehead and soft lullabies.

She remember that day better than any venomous bite, and it was far more painful. Sleep found him on his last day. For the first time he was at peace despite the coughs that continued to attack him. She held him during his last hours, savoring the fleeting warmth of his tiny body, feeling her only life's purpose fade away with his final breath.

And now he was gone.

She was unable to heal him, love him... hold him... He wouldn't need someone to teach him, to warn and protect him of life's sadistic ways – It came gift-wrapped to him from heaven.

Her eyes snapped open then, suddenly pondering if He was considering taking her too. Yet Esme knew the sound of the dying, this child was every bit alive. Her heart thudded with strong, fluttering pulses against the heaving of her lungs, while the machine like noises of her tiny body worked in almost perfect rhythm.

She could be healed... loved – Yet her heart must belong to a family. A grief-stricken family desperate to find their lost little girl. It was dangerous that Esme wished for the complete opposite, it was almost sinful of her, and so she pushed the thought away, the desire.

But perhaps she could help her, save her from death's greedy hands which were sure to be looming. Perhaps then she could be less damnable, get a chance at a afterlife that didn't contain an eternal fire.

The gravel beneath her soles was all but an absent wet crunch in her ears as she moved toward the quivering form, leaving the car to idle by. The wind and rain thrashed the trees about in the shadowy distance, yet it had no power against Esme, and as she gazed at the child she pictured the rain as thousands of icy needles, piercing her right through her thin clothing until she was numb.

Shock snagged her legs as she reached a close distance to the girl. Her eyes lost the ability to blink for a moment at the sight before her, every emotion possessing her was both absent and present at that moment. It familiarity now unfamiliar. In all the countries that she had visited, no mattered the poverty of it's nation or people, never had she seen a child with so little fat. It made commercials of malnourished children look almost comical.

Esme took a small step forward, hands still trembling. "Sweetheart?"

Her voice was instantly lost in the roaring downpour. Yet the word, seemingly unspoken, reached the child in startling clarity as two blue eyes peeked up from the quivering ball a moment later.

At first she just stared into Esme's eyes, frozen and unblinking, her tiny head cocked confusedly. She stared back, her lungs halted by the jutting streaks of raw flesh that marked her one cheek, the other wore colors of brown, purple, and yellow.

Something flickered in her eyes and her confusion vanished within seconds, terror violently taking her over. Helplessly, Esme watched as her trembles grew wild, wreaking her tiny frame so severely she feared it would shattered her bones.

The child scrambled backwards at her attempt to move closer and a faint, wispy sound fled from her quivering pale lips. It was the first noise she ever made and it stabbed Esme's chest with the brutality of a dull knife.

She looked deeper into those frightened eyes and she too felt equal terror at what they saw, her reflection. Her eyes were almost as dark as the nights sky, her hair drenched and tousled, standing in statue-like stillness. She was a Hollywood monster brought to life, she was the reason for her terror.

Quickly, she brought herself to her level. "You're alright, you're okay," Esme whispered, praying silently that her voice would calm her in some way, yet she knew she was unsuccessful when the child tucked her head into her knees again.

"There's no need to hide, sweetie. You don't have to be afraid, I am not here to hurt you. I only wish to help you." Those eyes remained hidden under a mess of wet locks and within her visible row of ribs, Esme heard her heart gallop at the sound of her voice.

"Are you lost, honey? Do you know where your mommy or daddy are?" Esme felt simple-minded asking the question, but she just had to. She didn't know anything about this child. She could have been separated from her parents on a trek in the forest for all she knew, perhaps a sole survivor of a car accident.

The child laid mute. Esme repeated the question again in hopes that she had simply not heard her, yet she still laid quiet and shivering in a puddle of rainwater, the sudden jump in her heart beat informing her that she had been heard.

"I know you're scared. It's always scary being alone, especially in the dark. I don't like being alone in the dark either. But you're not alone anymore, I am here now. There's no reason to be afraid." She rambled on in a soft voice, pausing briefly to witness another sliver of her trembles cease.

With a surge of motivation, she continued. "My name is Esme... It's alright if you don't want to tell me yours, it's scary talking to someone new, isn't it? You have such pretty blue eyes, I don't know why you would ever want to hide them. They are so much more pretty than these gloomy gray skies here in Seattle."

And suddenly, those eyes appeared again. Somehow her rambling managed to produce something other than more terror – somehow she managed to tame those violent tremors. Somehow lulling her soft whimpers. Hidden behind a shield of stray hairs, Esme found awe and confusion in the blue eyes of that child. She stared at her timidly with a furrowed brow, as though she were trying to find something – to kindle some sort of recalling.

Esme gave her a smile. "There you are. I am not so scary, am I?"

Her pale lips parted, yet not a word escaped them. The wonderment that lit up her tiny face aroused a warmth in her frigid heart. A sliver of recognition was captured and the tension in her frail shoulders eased just a speck.

A sharp gust of wind smothered that brief peace with it's bitterness, almost knocking the child over with it's force. She hid her eyes in her knees and pulled them closer to her chest, whimpering helplessly as violent trembles plagued her once more.

Swift to terminate her suffering, Esme gathered herself from the damp gravel. "It's okay, darling. You won't be cold for much longer."

She left her, and even though the moment was brief, even though she could see her clearly from where she stood beside the car. She still feared some form of tragedy to befall on the girl, yet she remained huddled on the ground, eyes anxious and tiny heart fluttering.

She found nothing of warmth within the Bentley, and in that moment of desperation, she was tempted to tear it's leather seats. And suddenly, as though God finally heard the prayers of the damned, her hands fell upon a coat.

In Alice's eyes, the thing was a worthless monstrosity after it's first year of use. It laid neatly folded and neglected in the back seats storage compartment, awaiting a new home in the hospital's donation box. But today it would finally have a use.

Terror consumed the girl once more as Esme approached her again, slipping on the wet earth in her struggle to move away from her. Catching sight of the fabric draped over her arm, her breath hitched and quickly became a ragged mess. The sound broke Esme's limbs.

"Easy now, sweetie. Relax. Shh... Nothing bad is going to happen-" She knelt down slowly and brought out the coat from the dry place in her arms. "- It's only a coat, see? There's no need to be afraid, I won't hurt you... I promise."

A whimper was her only reply, a confused and frightened little sound. She stared at the jacket still, not an once of uncertainty leaving her tiny face, not even a spark of familiarity in her eyes.

"A coat, sweetheart," She explained, slow and soothing, ignoring the burn of venom in her eyes. "It's something you wear – like a shirt. But it's much longer and thicker, it's meant to keep you warm when it's cold outside or dry when it rains. I am wearing one too, see?"

Gesturing to her drenched coat - which was offering neither the warmth or dryness she promised – the child's stare, cemented by terror, melted enough to take a look. She stared for a long, tense moment, frantically suckling upon her bottom lip. She was dreading something from that coat, and Esme wished sorely to understand it, with understanding she could rid her of that dread. But she continued to be blind.

That dread slowly turned into an inquiry and then confusion as she lifted her eyes to Esme, head slightly tilted, trembles only remaining from the cold.

"My coat is not going to hurt me, darling... or you. It's can't move like me and you. The only time it can hurt you is if someone hits you with it – and I won't hit you with it, not ever. It's only meant to keep you warm and dry, nothing more," Softly, she utters this, hoping that whoever flooded her innocent ears with this lie hadn't already drowned her with more of their dishonesty.

The rhythm of her heart and lungs became tuneful for the briefest moment until Esme took a few steps towards her, going far beyond the distance she had chosen before.

Esme hushes her softly as whimpers began pouring from her quivering lips, eyes wide and unblinking like that of a frightened doe. And suddenly she struggles to stop her cries, seizing her bottom lip in a tight grip between her teeth. A scarlet stream of blood glazes her lip and unthinkingly, Esme halts her lungs from gathering another breath.

The demon awakens from within her throat, yet it is weak, only bearing enough strength to tickle her esophagus with claws that lack a burn. She inhales carefully, and it's scent is nothing but a bland perfume as the rain strikes the child's swollen lip, washing away it's demonic control.

With the slowest of movements, with the softest and most pacifying eyes, Esme reaches out to the girl. Her flinch was one of the most violent things she had ever seen, perhaps worse than being on the front line of a battle field or witnessing the poverty of the Favela's in Rio de Janeiro.

The thoughts clearly belonged to the mentally disturbed, but it was a norm among parents. They were simply and endlessly drugged by their parental instincts, influenced to carry out the most stupid and reckless of things to keep their children sound. Sometimes the world's casualties were all but a scratch compared to the fatal stab of their child's tragedy.

And right now that simple little movement was enough to char Esme's soul more than the venom of a vampire.

Her arms cramp but she forces them to move... to stretch... to deliver the coat to the icebound child before her. And slowly and surely, she manages to drape the fabric over her shoulders, so frail she wonders how her bones stay intact under it's weight.

Her skin was blistering hot near Esme's hand despite it's blue color, she doesn't dare touch the child. She wanted to, so badly – painfully almost. She wanted to cradle her tiny hands within her own, allowing her touch to vow her safety rather than words, hoping it would cease her whimpers and trembles. But she knew that the girl couldn't handle such a thing, not yet anyways. She could very possibly faint from the flood of terror that was sure to come. And Esme could not bear to live with herself if that were to happen.

As she drew her hands back, the child's back grew rigid, her eyes tightly clamped shut. She sat like that for the longest of minutes, tense... trembling... waiting... breathing so swiftly her lungs barely gathered any oxygen.

The warmth of the fabric settled her quivering after awhile, and she squirmed a little. Not in discomfort but confusion, as though she had never felt anything besides freezing temperatures. Slowly, her eyes opened, blinking rapidly at the two sleeves that danged in front of her, puzzled.

"See? That's all the coat did, it made you warm. It didn't hurt you and neither did I. Do you feel better, sweetheart?" With the softest gasp, she jerked her head upward to Esme's face, heart jolting and eyes wide.

The question – seemingly harmless to Esme – brought panicked whimpers rather than a response, not even a nod, just more terror. Clumsily, she scooted backwards on her bottom. She didn't get very far as the frigid rain crippled her limps quickly. The movement, although small, managed to make the coat slip from her shoulders and fall into a puddle.

Her eyes grew impossibly wide as she peered over at the coat, drenched and limp in mud. She sat frozen for a moment before swiftly hugging her knees and morphing into a trembling ball of skin and bone, tense and waiting... for punishment.

Esme swallowed thickly, blinking away the burn of venom in her eyes and crawled ever so slightly closer to the child. "Shh... Shh... Nothing bad is going to happen, honey. Nothing bad. It was just an accident," She told her, soft and true, wincing as she flinched as the words touch her ears. Still she sat unmoving, predictably silent, barely breathing.

"I am not mad, sweetheart. I am not going to hurt you, I won't ever hurt you. You're safe. Please... I just want to help you." Her voice turned watery, almost pleading.

Esme never felt so lost, so helpless and confused until she met this child. She gripped at her damp caramel locks like it was her only solace to these feelings, no more words could be found to soothe her, no touch to ground her. It would only frighten her more.

So she sat there in a heap of utter defeat. She must of failed her. No – she already did. And now she would only add to the child's dismay, another person to add to her list of people to fear.

A small movement caught Esme's eye and she lifted her head from it's shameful hang to be gifted with a pair of timid blue eyes. That shriveled hope within her chest slowly came back to life.

Esme almost sobbed in happiness to see her tiny face again. From her bleached knees, she peered at her in both confusion and fascination as her lips arched to form a shaky yet warm smile.

"That's it, darling. Let me see those lovely eyes. You don't need to hide any longer, you're safe with me now," She murmured soothingly. The wind aroused again, lunging bullets of rain at them mercilessly, the child whimpered brokenly, so faint with exhaustion.

Hesitantly, she lifted her head an inch more as the wind went back to it's temporary slumber, exposing trembling blue-tinged lips and helpless eyes. Esme couldn't bare it anymore, she let down her cement walls and allowed her maternal instincts to possess her. She wasn't going to watch the child as hypothermia slowly consumed her. Esme had to do something.

"Well this certainly isn't going to much use to you." She utter sweetly and with a careful hand retrieved the soil clothing from behind the child, hushing her quietly as she flinched when she neared.

Settling back to her original spot, she let out a gust of air that she kept locked in her lungs and met Esme's eyes anxiously, she gazed back gently. "I know questions scare you, sweetheart. But all you have to do is nod your head for 'yes' or shake you head for 'no'. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Nothing bad will happen. I promise... Are you hurt?"

Her heart began to gallop frantically as her face scrunched up more and more with confusion at the question, Esme was quick to soothe her before the panic had her curled up in a ball again. "It's okay... It's okay... perhaps that wasn't a good question to ask. I am so sorry, sweetie,"

Esme rose a little from her knees, slow and careful. "Can you stand up?" She asked gently instead and the child was already unfolding herself from her tiny ball before she could even finish.

The question was answered silently as she staggered to gain her footing. Stumbling down once and standing her second try, her legs shook weakly but she was on her feet, so small in size at her full height. She slowly craned her neck skyward as Esme stood fully, eyes wide with uneasy and eagerness.

Esme couldn't smother her lips from beaming brightly. "Good girl. I knew you could do it, darling. So brave. I am so proud."

She seemed startle by her voice, shrinking back at it's slight volume and blinding pride. She smiled apologetically, it then fading as the child remained frozen when she moved toward the Bentley.

Esme paused in the rain and wiggled her pale fingers warmly in invitation. "Come along, sweetie. I am not going to leave you here all on your own in the rain." She beckoned.

With hesitant little feet, the girl stepped toward her only to stop abruptly as she blinked rapidly in the violent headlights of her husbands car, whimpering at the sound of it's soft purring as though it hadn't become audible until now. She shuffled back fearfully.

_Had she not seen a car before?_ Esme's insides became more frigid than the current temperature at the thought. Only if one locked her indoors and covered all windows to prevent her from seeing the outside world for the entirety of her short life. Did such a type of abuse exist?

"Oh, honey. This is a car, it won't hurt you. The sound you are hearing is the engine; it's what makes the car move. We use it to travel long distances." Esme left out warning her about the dangers of a vehicle, not wanting to frighten her anymore than she already was, she approached the idling car.

The child tensed up and squeezed her eyes shut as Esme laid her hand on the hood, bracing for some form of disaster. The rain pelted onward, undisturbed. No cries of agony were heard, nothing unusual befell. Just silence. Timidly, she opened her eyes again and blinked at Esme's unharmed hand and then her face, startled.

"I am alright, darling. the car didn't hurt me," Her foundling swallowed with trembling legs, frail arms tight around her bony frame. "You're okay... this must be so new to you, so scary. You don't have to be

afraid... Will you come to me?" Esme reached out her free hand.

After a beat, she inched forward with unsteady footing until she reached Esme's side, her tiny body cursed with violent quakes. "Atta girl. The car isn't so scary, It's purrs just like a kitten, see?" She placed her other hand on the sleek hood, the girl flinched, but then cocked her head curiously.

Then, very slow and halting, she rested her own tiny hand on it's wet surface. A soft gasp fled from her lips, her eyes growing impossibly large in disbelief, so tenderly awestruck by it's vibration.

The sight was so heartbreaking yet so very tender, like witnessing a infant walk for the first time after so many tearful stumbles. Esme wanted to cry.

"You're so brave, sweetheart... so brave. There's nothing scary about this at all," She whispered, her voice crackled and watery, her fingers aching badly to stroke her tangled hair. She let go of the hood and the child was quick to follow, watching with wide eyes as she moved toward the car's rear.

Esme laughed light and weak. "Come along now." She scurried right behind her.

The back door was left open from her earlier rummaging, all the heat was gone and had escaped into the frigid air besides the warmth that resided in the front and rear seats, the electric coils were to their highest settings. Esme had a shameful need of being consistently warm.

"This is where you sit when the car is moving-" A car zipped by carelessly and Esme pointed it out quickly. "-There's another one right there. We'll be moving just like that, but not as fast. That would be dangerous."

The child recoiled at it's speed and then turned to stare helplessly as Esme climbed into the back seat of the car. She flashed her a reassuring smile as she peered around the interior timidly, shivering in the rain.

"The seats are warm. You must be so cold, sweetie. Would like to take a seat- touch the seat? It feels very nice. " Esme promises her with a caress of her hand over the beige leather. She watched the motion with a cocked head for a moment, debating, then she laid a hesitant finger on the seat.

She yanked her hand back with a gasp, eyes fluttering in shock but before Esme could utter a word of comfort, her hand was already reaching for the leather again.

A shiver rippled her pale skin as her hand lingered there, her lips agape in pure awe. Her head flitted upward in alarm at the sound of Esme's soft voice. "It feels nice, doesn't it? Why don't we try to sit now, you'll be okay. You're completely safe."

With a deep, shaky breath, she clambered in awkwardly, almost forcibly and placed her tiny bottom on the seat haltingly. It was so harrowing for Esme to see her so unfamiliar and frightened of warmth, she still smiled brightly despite of it.

"That's it, my brave little ming. You're doing so well," The child blinked confusedly at her soft-spoken words, but underneath her twiggy ribs, her heart lulled to a more slow and peaceful rhythm. "Now, we'll put our seat belts on, this keeps us safe while the car is moving and we only have to wear them when it's moving – like this."

The child watched with shocking alertness as Esme pull the strap over her chest and locked it into place. According the law, she was required to be in a booster seat but she wasn't excepting to run into a child on the side of a Washington State highway.

"You try now." Esme coaxed.

She fumbled with the strap in shaky hands, and she realized that the child was trying to please her, tragically desperate. With the slowest movements that Esme could muster, she reached to take the seat belt from her tiny grasp. She flinched violently and a cluster of whimpers came fleeing afterward.

"Shh... Shh... It's okay. You're okay. I am trying to help you, sweetheart. Just give me a moment, I am not going to hurt you. I promise." With the strap firmly in place and her hands drawn back, the child uncoiled slowly, blinking at Esme with teary eyes and a heaving chest.

She looked so lost, so defeat and weakened by terror. But here she was in Esme's car, safe and unharmed – physically at least – That's all that mattered for now.

Esme met the eyes of her nameless foundling, soft yet fiercely, she whispered. "Whoever hurt you... You'll never have to see them again. You're safe now, I am going to take you far away from here. You'll never feel pain again... We're going home."

* * *

_Just a quick note. Esme is aware of the dangers of taking a human child home with her, but she is sort of... possessed by her maternal instincts for a lack of better words. That would explain the weirdness of her last three words._

_Reviews/favs/follows are always welcomed and if you any problem, questions, concerns, or just want to talk. I don't bite, you are welcome to PM me._

_Love you all, till next time..._


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